


This is a Bad Idea

by duointherain



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: F/M, M/M, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 14:40:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16557668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duointherain/pseuds/duointherain
Summary: So it's AU... small town somewhere in the liberal part of the world.  Duo's a mostly nice guy vampire that just wants to live peacefully and read his books. Heero is the local sheriff. Relena is the mayor.They're new neighbors. One day she shows up and demands that Duo babysit... just for a couple of hours.  I'm not sure what her emergency is... maybe it's zombies.





	This is a Bad Idea

This is a Bad Idea

by Duointherain

 

Disclaimer: I don’t own Gundam Wing. I just live in it because it’s safe. 

 

Notes: This is AU. Duo’s a vampire. Heero’s an accountant. Relena’s a politician with dreams of glory. 

 

Also Notes:  It is, 1x2x1 because I’m writing it and that’s where it goes. In this story, there is past 1xR 

  
  


The houses were all very similar. Duo had trouble telling the difference between sand and pebble, really. Maybe pebble was a little grayer? 

 

The house wasn’t great, but if you were going to give yourself a house through some truly splendid hacking skills, a track home in a small town wasn’t a bad choice. It wasn’t like there was a long line of people trying to buy it that were going to be disappointed when it went suddenly off the market and paid in full. It would do for a few decades. 

 

Of course, it often took a few years, sometimes a couple decades even for all his books and belongings to be delivered. Eventually though, it would be Duo Maxwell, comfortable as hell could be, tucked up in a seemingly normal looking house with like ten thousand books and a movie projector he’d nicked from a place called the Palace of the Night. It had been anything but, however, he still had the projector. 

 

He, himself, was a bit more Pan than he was comfortable with poetically. If he stood up straight and dressed like a grown up, he could pass for maybe early twenties. It hadn’t been that hard a thousand years before. Then he’d looked the middle-aged he was when he’d died. It was beyond irritating to have grown younger and younger as he grew older and older. 

 

So he was slender, the body of a courtier and dancer for the Pope, with hair the color of a stoat in summer coat, long brown and often brushed to a nice sheen. Stoat were not weasels. He didn’t care what anyone said. His eyes were violet, which he expected was what got him sold to Rome in the first place, what gave him lots of little advantages that lead him down the path to where he was. People were suckers for pretty eyes. 

 

He leaned towards the screen hung on his hall wall, in an ornate gilt frame, looking for all its worth like an antique mirror. The screen showed him his face, his smile, and he batted his eye lashes at himself, posed for a moment, gave himself a come-hither look, then giggled in the other wise dark hallway. His clothing was completely modern, ordered with great deliberation on a typing box that he’d bought from the saleswoman who sold him the magic mirror that actually worked.  He wore fairly baggy jeans, with lots of pockets. Both pockets on either side of his thighs held favorite paperback books. He had a t-shirt with a painted image of another wizard, but painted so very thinly that he could not detect the slightest brush strokes. 

 

While he had never met the wizard, he was promised that the man was quite popular. He was blond, smug, with a a comfy looking green and gold scarf. Duo rather thought he’d like to find this wizard sometime. The world was changing so very much! 

 

It seemed only the week before that wizards had been put to the fire. Dreadful times! Things were much better now! The saleswoman had promised him his typing box could access every book ever published. He had not found this to be true, but it was very close.  He also couldn’t find the wizard who had shirts made of him either. The typing box was very hard. 

 

Then there was a knock on his door.  He blinked, He looked at the door, which on this side was one in a deep mahogany, with a couple of crow skulls affixed to remind the river spirits that he was friendly, mostly.  He looked back at his magic mirror, made a face, as if doing that might disrupt whatever delusion he was having. 

 

It happened from time-to-time. The past overlapping onto the present. 

 

The knock grew harder. 

 

Hands clutched to his chest, he cautiously approached the door. “Hello?”

 

The knocking seemed to echo through the foyer, up the red velvet carpeted stairs. Eyes wide, whites showing, Duo licked his lips and cautiously opened the door. One could never tell, really. The river spirits might be demanding he move or it could be almost anything, really. 

 

What it turned out to be was very bright. The ... middle ... of... the ... day! An arm up, he squinted. “Hello?”

 

“Hello! Finally,” Relena snapped, pushing by him where he stood, stunned by the light, as it were. “Where are your parents?”

 

More comfortably tucked between the door and the wall, out of the evil light, he stared at her. 

 

Woman, maybe early 30’s, hair swept up, nice clothes, face painted with some significance he didn’t understand. She was fearless, in charge. Behind her there were two younger humans, short, children. There were two children. They looked very much like each other. One boy. One girl. There was an intelligence and a bit of predator in their eyes. 

 

“Excuse me,” the woman said, tapping her foot. Her shoes were plain, blue, something Sir Francis Drake might have worn to a meeting where he wanted to be seen as practical and pious. “Where is your father?”

 

“Uh,” Duo asked, face twitching. “What’chu mean?”   
  
“Fine,” she said, “Where is your mother?”

 

Duo wrinkled his nose. “What’chu want?” As his anger trickled around under his skin he imagined filling the space with his presence, swooping own on her and eating her whole! He hadn’t had a proper snack of that kind in a decade!

 

She sighed, completely put upon. “Look. I know that your dad is a goth rock star of some kind. I’m not here to invade your privacy. Good job protecting them. I’m Relena Peacecraft-Yuy. I’m your neighbor.” 

 

Duo scratched his temple. It was a rule, his own rule, but a rule nonetheless, that one did not eat one’s neighbors. “I’m Duo Maxwell,” he said. He stared at her outstretched hand. There was no way he was kissing her hand. She wasn’t a lady. He wasn’t a fucking gentleman. 

 

After a moment, she pulled her hand back, offended. “Look, you. I get that you’re very ... gothic, or whatever, but there is an emergency downtown and I have to go. My husband will be home soon. I’ll let him know you have the twins. This is Treize and Vinta. Their father will feed them when he gets home. Just see that they don’t get into any trouble. 

 

There is a kind of instinctive pulling away from such things. Duo stood up straight, leaning back though, eyes narrowed. “So... I could take care of whatever emergency it is.” 

 

“Look here, young man,” she snapped. “You’re my neighbor. Here we help each other out in difficult circumstances.” She pulled out a business card, smacked it into his hand, like literally. Her hand behind his, her other one putting her card in place and holding it.  “Call me if you have any problems. Heero’s number is on the back side. He’s the sheriff.” 

 

Duo tried really hard to smile, to keep his illusions in place, to not have fangs. 

 

“Gothic rock stars. When your father gets home, I want a word with him!” 

 

He’d been dead long enough that his bones might be dust, but sure, yeah, any time.  When he didn’t say anything, she stomped out the door, leaving the gemini vipers behind. 

 

After a moment, Duo cleared his throat. “Do you like books? You can read, right?”

 

The girl looked him without the slightest ounce of self-preservational fear. “You got a computer?” 

 

“What’s a computer?”

 

The boy had his notebook out of his pocket, though the paper seemed to glow in the dim light of the hallway. “There’s wifi, come on. Let’s find the router.” 

 

“What’s a router,” Duo said, hurrying to keep up with them. “What is that thing in your hand?”

 

“That’s my phone. What are you, a vampire?”

 

A look of terror passed over Duo’s face. He liked this house!  He’d only just gotten there! Emergency moves could put his library in limbo for so very log. 

 

“He’s just kidding,” Vinta said, giving him a smirk. “You do know that vampires aren’t real, right?”

 

“No Santa Claus either,” Treize teased. 

 

“Yeah, ‘course,” Duo said. 

 

“Are you sure you’re supposed to be left alone,” Vinta asked. “You’re not mentally challenged, are you?”

 

“Sometimes,” Duo admitted, “But it’s kind of fun, finding something challenging.” 

 

“Were you homeschooled,” Treize asked, resumig the search for the router. “

 

“Yes,” Duo agreed. “You?”

 

“No, we go to Rosa Parks Elementary. Do you want to be friends?”

 

Duo nodded, his worries giving way to hope. “Yes. Let’s be friends.” 


End file.
